


Hamartia

by wunderstell



Category: Greek Mythology, Icarus and the Sun - Fandom
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Mythology - Freeform, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 12:49:01
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8014615
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wunderstell/pseuds/wunderstell
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>ha • mar • ti • a<br/>(hah-mahe-tee-uh) noun.</p><p>(1) A tragic or fatal flaw.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Hamartia

Sometimes I try to remember.

 

I try to remember how I got myself in this predicament; this labyrinth. This never-ending maze, with walls built up so high that I lost my sense of direction; that none one, not even myself, can find a way out.

 

I try to remember how I got inside. And how I got inside the darkness. When I started seeking its comfort. How only I could hear myself and how badly I want to get all the feelings I'm feeling out of my chest. How I try to hide from one of the monsters I thought was in the maze, only to realize was probably none other than myself. 

 

Eventually, I start to recall.

 

I put myself here. I got myself in this labyrinth. I let myself be here. I’d see the sun high up in the sky, and I would admire it just a little while. Then I’d go back to my darkness. My comfort. Where nobody could see all my flaws. Know my secrets. Where no one could judge every single mistake I’ve made. Where no one could hate me for the things I’ve chosen to do.

 

I don’t remember how and when it started, but little by little, I started exposing myself to the sun. Its brightness. Its light would seep through the cracks of every tall wall I built. Its warmth would spread all throughout my body. How I’d start to feel alive, just a bit. Just a little bit. To the point I never dared to go back to the darkness.

 

I remember trying to build myself wings out of wax. It took so much time and effort. Sometimes I’d burn myself with the wax. Then some people started reaching out to help me. So I’d be able to avoid hurting myself. While making my wings I’d tell them, “I’m making these wings for myself, so maybe one day I can get closer to the sun. Feel its warmth; bathe in its brightness.” Then they’d retort, “Fly and bee free, but not too high. Not too close to the sun.”

 

The day came and I finally got the opportunity to test my wings. I remember feeling excited. Feeling euphoric. I’ve gone to the edge of the steepest cliff. I could feel the cold breeze hit my face. I hesitated for a while. What if my wings don’t work? What if this isn’t worth the fall? Then I thought to myself I’ve gone this far now. I took a deep breath.

 

One. Okay. Two. I’m doing this. And I took the leap.

 

And I flew.

 

I flew up and high. And I was confused how it worked but I’m flying. I’d see the people who helped me out and they look happy because I’m laughing. I’m flying.

 

I touched the sky and I’ve never felt so alive. I saw how beautiful the clouds were and I carelessly grazed through them. Then I saw the sun and I flew violently, higher, faster towards the sun.

 

Towards you.

 

But I forgot. I forgot that the sun was never mine to touch; to reach.

 

But the sun was so beautiful and radiating, so I reached for it anyway.

 

And I fell.

 

I don’t recall my wings falling off. Maybe because the only thing I felt melting was my heart. But I was falling towards the sea. All my senses are awake now. It felt like my wings were being clipped off, I was burning. I was falling faster now, I couldn’t hear myself scream.

 

Then, I crashed.

 

The harsh cold waves engulfed me. I try to make sense of what happened. What led to my demise.

 

I forgot. My hamartia.

 

I realized all too late that my efforts were completely wasted; that I am, once again, back inside my darkness. Not in a labyrinth. Not in a maze. Yet another predicament.

 

And as I sink deeper, further down, I thought to myself. Wouldn’t it be better to have felt your blinding burning light, that for a moment; even just a moment, I was alive, than to never have felt anything at all?

 

 

 

I was Icarus.

 

And you were my sun.


End file.
